BrokedownPalace
Bluelight Crew
The world is pretty doomed at this point...
It is just that humans as a whole, are doomed. The earth will always be here. It was here before we were, it will be here after we are. Humanity is a game, and we have most definitely lost. The final chapter of our existence as a race, is approaching..
"Houston, we have a problem...", said the man with the plan. Well who gave him the keys, the permanent marker to scribe the un-erasable fast approaching next sequence of events. It's outta my hands now, there is nothing more I can do. Down to our last candle, a minuscule wick, a thin strand yet to shake hands with the weight of the world. The final countdown ensues, left, right, up, down, all forces of good and evil and neutrality converge on one single point. The wax is melting, the flame is falling.. The light is getting dim. A flickering glimmer of life on its last legs, ready to re-join our ancestors in the world of black and white.
The light has since faded. Everything seems the same, in my head its all still there. A motion picture projected onto the all white screen of my eyes. Open, closed, inside-out, perceived reality still holds the same shape. The four drab walls with the rotted mustard paint, a metal box, locked to keep the evil out, or maybe keep it in.. Nobody knows. Nobody dares go near it. Some nights, the war torn memorabilia seems to get restless. Encroaching on dream-land, the complex paradoxes my mind likes to take part in, the ultimate personification of the struggle of self vs. self, my two realities co-exist, even if it is for a blink of an eye.
A never-ending series, a long winded synopsis of what this really is, never a moment to stop and take a breath. Breathe, while you still have the chance, you've discovered Atlantis and Aladdin&HisLamp, Todo and the Lion King, The three little pigs who are certainly in hell. Their houses and lives and opinions and stances all get knocked to the dirt, rubbed in, like a ketchup stain from a Coney Island hotdog. An insignificant piece of relish, take it home to your wife and she'll make your favorite Sunday t-shirt, clean as a fucking whistle. With less than a thought, the once detrimental stain that tattered your very existance, challenged your psyche, every single goddam atom, pushed it to the brink of breaking the camel's back.
The last straw, my friend. The last straw, would mark the completion; the final sequence of events leading to the one, the only one, the indefinite, irrefutable evidence of what we all knew all a long.
And the loop repeats itself. Auto-pilot, from here to eternity, lightspeed, fasten your seatbealt, up down forwards backwards, all directions at once. The big bang, reverses itself reducing what once was everything, back into nothing. We grew from one atom, expanding infinitely, a never ending expansion of all this is me.
Initially, I never even existed. In the beginning, there was nothing. Now, I exist, and I sprouted from the so-called nothing. When the cycle is deemed to be complete, my own personal up/down_turnaround cycle of birth>living>dying>death will recycle itself.
I grew from nothing. The "BIG BANG" must have not been big at all. Microscopic proportions. Fundamentally, human existance as a whole is the biggest, most overlooked flaw of our modern day perception.
PLAIN AND SIMPLE WE CANNOT AND DO NOT EXIST IN A PHYSICAL SENSE!
The "seed" I grew from, the first atom of the "big bang", the one initial grain, that continued to multiply, was fathered from nothing, how is it that I, a so-called "existing human being", could have been "created" at all? Quite simply I do not exist. Nothing is real, nothing is fake, nothing is in between. Nothing is quite simply that. NOTHING.
Energy cannot be created, nor destroyed. Well, then how was anything created? That statement suggests that there is a finite, exact, set amount of matter in our world. We can change, mold, combine, melt, mix, bury, break, build, using material, all created from energy. The one and only true element that matters is energy. it can take on many forms, can do many things. But paradoxical situations destroy all logic. They also destroy the fact that all l logic is now destroyed, thus nullifying the first statement.
QUITE SIMPLY - I exist as nothing, and nothing is me. I will never be anything, and nothing will ever be me. My consciousness is god, the only non-matter-non-tangible-nonexistent creature, which is at the same time the only thing that exists.
I am god, you are nothing. My mind created everything, and everything came from nothing. Nothing means anything. Nobody is real. Opposites don't attract. They simply don't exist.
God just knocked on my window, and told me to knock it off. I replied, quite eloquently, that I am you. And you are me. I am my own God, creator of good and evil. Regardless what physical plane I am currently residing on, my perceptual being, an entity made not of energy, nor matter, but nothing. It cannot be created or destroyed. It can never be here, but it will always be everywhere.
I am you, My projected self. Human consciousness is a mass conglomeration of me, and only me. 7 billion different minds, 7 billion chances to finally get it right.
It is bound to happen, one day. This temporary residence on this circus called Earth, where we think we are free, yet our atmosphere is our boundry. An invisible force field preventing us from expanding. Preventing us from winning the game, the game of life. Life is a game show, a horrible game show on prime time basic cable television. Four PM sharp.
Spin the wheel, pick a number. Pin the tail on the fucking donkey, maybe he will scream. Take a ride on your magic dream machine, and escape this hell we live in.
A 70's soap opera, stuck on repeat on channel NBC 4. For as long as perception of life and time continue, our sad sappy lives of Birth-Child-Struggle-Work-Retire-Child Again- Death.
Death could be birth, though.
When our perceived consciousness finally ascends thru the effortless astral plane, our energy transfers itself to another sad sad soul, who will now start from the beginning. Do not Pass Go, Do not collect your $200 dollars.
Around and around we go, where it'll stop. nobody knows...nobody knows..nobody knows. Nobody's nose. Nosebody no's. Win, lose, it's all the same. The big fantastic grand prize illusion. An all expenses paid one way ticket, straight back to the beginning. Out of the womb you come, to do it all over again. All over again. All over again.
The entities in other parts of our galaxy, have somehow mastered this seeming undefeatable cycle of insanity. Now they use us "humans" as an intergalactic freak show, for all to see. The struggles, the fights, the deaths, the sickness. A dead-beat planet, where all the fuck ups go and think they're is something greater.
Well, the jig is up, my friend, dead or alive, our spirt flys freely. Trapped in this body, is hell froma previous life. History repeats itself, I am no doubt stuck in eternal hell.
Nothingness is everything.
Everything is nothing.
Everything is something
Something can always be nothing.
It is all a dream, a bad bad dream that we'll never wake. Goodnight, moon. You've got the good life.
It is just that humans as a whole, are doomed. The earth will always be here. It was here before we were, it will be here after we are. Humanity is a game, and we have most definitely lost. The final chapter of our existence as a race, is approaching..
"Houston, we have a problem...", said the man with the plan. Well who gave him the keys, the permanent marker to scribe the un-erasable fast approaching next sequence of events. It's outta my hands now, there is nothing more I can do. Down to our last candle, a minuscule wick, a thin strand yet to shake hands with the weight of the world. The final countdown ensues, left, right, up, down, all forces of good and evil and neutrality converge on one single point. The wax is melting, the flame is falling.. The light is getting dim. A flickering glimmer of life on its last legs, ready to re-join our ancestors in the world of black and white.
The light has since faded. Everything seems the same, in my head its all still there. A motion picture projected onto the all white screen of my eyes. Open, closed, inside-out, perceived reality still holds the same shape. The four drab walls with the rotted mustard paint, a metal box, locked to keep the evil out, or maybe keep it in.. Nobody knows. Nobody dares go near it. Some nights, the war torn memorabilia seems to get restless. Encroaching on dream-land, the complex paradoxes my mind likes to take part in, the ultimate personification of the struggle of self vs. self, my two realities co-exist, even if it is for a blink of an eye.
A never-ending series, a long winded synopsis of what this really is, never a moment to stop and take a breath. Breathe, while you still have the chance, you've discovered Atlantis and Aladdin&HisLamp, Todo and the Lion King, The three little pigs who are certainly in hell. Their houses and lives and opinions and stances all get knocked to the dirt, rubbed in, like a ketchup stain from a Coney Island hotdog. An insignificant piece of relish, take it home to your wife and she'll make your favorite Sunday t-shirt, clean as a fucking whistle. With less than a thought, the once detrimental stain that tattered your very existance, challenged your psyche, every single goddam atom, pushed it to the brink of breaking the camel's back.
The last straw, my friend. The last straw, would mark the completion; the final sequence of events leading to the one, the only one, the indefinite, irrefutable evidence of what we all knew all a long.
And the loop repeats itself. Auto-pilot, from here to eternity, lightspeed, fasten your seatbealt, up down forwards backwards, all directions at once. The big bang, reverses itself reducing what once was everything, back into nothing. We grew from one atom, expanding infinitely, a never ending expansion of all this is me.
Initially, I never even existed. In the beginning, there was nothing. Now, I exist, and I sprouted from the so-called nothing. When the cycle is deemed to be complete, my own personal up/down_turnaround cycle of birth>living>dying>death will recycle itself.
I grew from nothing. The "BIG BANG" must have not been big at all. Microscopic proportions. Fundamentally, human existance as a whole is the biggest, most overlooked flaw of our modern day perception.
PLAIN AND SIMPLE WE CANNOT AND DO NOT EXIST IN A PHYSICAL SENSE!
The "seed" I grew from, the first atom of the "big bang", the one initial grain, that continued to multiply, was fathered from nothing, how is it that I, a so-called "existing human being", could have been "created" at all? Quite simply I do not exist. Nothing is real, nothing is fake, nothing is in between. Nothing is quite simply that. NOTHING.
Energy cannot be created, nor destroyed. Well, then how was anything created? That statement suggests that there is a finite, exact, set amount of matter in our world. We can change, mold, combine, melt, mix, bury, break, build, using material, all created from energy. The one and only true element that matters is energy. it can take on many forms, can do many things. But paradoxical situations destroy all logic. They also destroy the fact that all l logic is now destroyed, thus nullifying the first statement.
QUITE SIMPLY - I exist as nothing, and nothing is me. I will never be anything, and nothing will ever be me. My consciousness is god, the only non-matter-non-tangible-nonexistent creature, which is at the same time the only thing that exists.
I am god, you are nothing. My mind created everything, and everything came from nothing. Nothing means anything. Nobody is real. Opposites don't attract. They simply don't exist.
God just knocked on my window, and told me to knock it off. I replied, quite eloquently, that I am you. And you are me. I am my own God, creator of good and evil. Regardless what physical plane I am currently residing on, my perceptual being, an entity made not of energy, nor matter, but nothing. It cannot be created or destroyed. It can never be here, but it will always be everywhere.
I am you, My projected self. Human consciousness is a mass conglomeration of me, and only me. 7 billion different minds, 7 billion chances to finally get it right.
It is bound to happen, one day. This temporary residence on this circus called Earth, where we think we are free, yet our atmosphere is our boundry. An invisible force field preventing us from expanding. Preventing us from winning the game, the game of life. Life is a game show, a horrible game show on prime time basic cable television. Four PM sharp.
Spin the wheel, pick a number. Pin the tail on the fucking donkey, maybe he will scream. Take a ride on your magic dream machine, and escape this hell we live in.
A 70's soap opera, stuck on repeat on channel NBC 4. For as long as perception of life and time continue, our sad sappy lives of Birth-Child-Struggle-Work-Retire-Child Again- Death.
Death could be birth, though.
When our perceived consciousness finally ascends thru the effortless astral plane, our energy transfers itself to another sad sad soul, who will now start from the beginning. Do not Pass Go, Do not collect your $200 dollars.
Around and around we go, where it'll stop. nobody knows...nobody knows..nobody knows. Nobody's nose. Nosebody no's. Win, lose, it's all the same. The big fantastic grand prize illusion. An all expenses paid one way ticket, straight back to the beginning. Out of the womb you come, to do it all over again. All over again. All over again.
The entities in other parts of our galaxy, have somehow mastered this seeming undefeatable cycle of insanity. Now they use us "humans" as an intergalactic freak show, for all to see. The struggles, the fights, the deaths, the sickness. A dead-beat planet, where all the fuck ups go and think they're is something greater.
Well, the jig is up, my friend, dead or alive, our spirt flys freely. Trapped in this body, is hell froma previous life. History repeats itself, I am no doubt stuck in eternal hell.
Nothingness is everything.
Everything is nothing.
Everything is something
Something can always be nothing.
It is all a dream, a bad bad dream that we'll never wake. Goodnight, moon. You've got the good life.
this.
I wrote this while on a high dose of amphetamine, pretty much in one very long single train of thought. My life is utter shit but when I find the motivation to write and express my strange thoughts and ideas about life/death and everything in between.